


{Red} Room Where it Happens

by ashyfur524, THE_Backwards



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, Dark Web, Fucked Up, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, My First Work in This Fandom, Other, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8211053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashyfur524/pseuds/ashyfur524, https://archiveofourown.org/users/THE_Backwards/pseuds/THE_Backwards
Summary: The room was dark. The walls were a lovely marble-white underneath the splatters of scarlet, and crimson floor-length curtains covered the windows. There was an old chair, its sturdy oak legs bolted to the floor. Marks of struggle had been gouged into the floor, scuffs and scrapes on the distressed hardwood laminate. A medical table hid itself in the shadows, covered with a ragged, blood-stained cloth, hiding all sorts of tools and toys for his visitors.
Alexander Hamilton honestly had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky in his friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by MooBoo's fic (Horribly inspired by it, stop lying.. *at least it’s beginning bits.. It tapers off after chapter two..*, I just wanted an excuse to be sadistic, god I have problems.. Go read their fic, though, it's super good.)
> 
> Otherwise known as a way for the author to procrastinate doing their schoolwork because she's fallen in love with Red Room Runner! Alex.. These first few chapters will be short. They'll get longer as I need to start prepping for writing papers.
> 
> Marked as Mature just in case the blood warning ain't enough..

The room was dark. The walls were a lovely marble-white underneath the splatters of scarlet, and crimson floor-length curtains covered the windows. There was an old chair, its sturdy oak legs bolted to the floor. Marks of struggle had been gouged into the floor, scuffs and scrapes on the distressed hardwood laminate. A medical table hid itself in the shadows, covered with a ragged, blood-stained cloth, hiding all sorts of tools and toys for his visitors.

It felt like home. The darkness, the red spots adorning every surface, the black-handled instruments, the tattered cloth shielding them from view, these were home to him. But not the silence. The room was never more home than when screams echoed off of the walls, spilling into the hall beyond. But, alas, he couldn’t always have a pretty face waiting for him to pounce. His dear Laurens was busy, after all, and it took time to find to good ones. The pretty ones. The screamers. He had a knack for finding the gems in a city full of common scoundrels. Something about him drew them close, as if a single snap of his fingers could bring the eager-eyed lovelies flocking to him, blissfully unaware of the fate awaiting them.

A small smile tugged at his lips as his mind painted a beautiful picture; Laurens, those deep hazel-brown eyes blown wide with glee, a wide grin splattered across his face, freckles hidden under a thin spray of blood, unbelievably proud of himself, delighted that this one was a screamer, that this one made his baby smile, that Alex was happy. The blood on their hands, the sweet smell of death flooding the room, threatening to suffocate them both in their fervor as the corkscrew found a happy home inside of an eye socket. And after the screams, the fun, the game, there was silence. Soft but pressing. Still as bloodstained hands worked to clean tools and walls and floors. Gentle as their eyes met for a brief moment, and gone once they’d disposed of the body. More accurately, gone once Hercules had grown tired of the stench of dead flesh sitting in his home for more than an hour.

Alexander Hamilton honestly had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky in his friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens finds a friend for his Alex..

John Laurens’ eyes scanned the New York city streets, looking for a glimmer of hope in every set of eyes. He had spent most of his week in this cycle, the bitter November air biting his cheeks and nose, his hands in his hoodie pockets, his posture small and unassuming. That was his routine. This was today, however, and today held a pleasant reward for him. 

Park Avenue bustled with footsteps, snips of conversations floating in and out of Laurens’ ears before a screeching halt shattered the sea of distracted calm. He glanced around, his eyes settling on the center of the commotion. And he smiled. 

Three women stood together as he watched, and his mind began to wander. That one looked good in pink, but she would look better in red. Dripping in red. Soaking in red. She could be drawn out, nice and slow, played with. People would be paying thousands by the end of her show. The youngest would go quicker, she’d fight more. She’d go last, watch her bloodline drip away, watch her sisters’ eyes go glassy, see the light fade. The middle child, however, proved difficult to read right away. 

She was small, frail, but carried herself with a strength suited best to queens. Strong, yet still weak in her ways. Truly a mystery, that one. Impossible to know which side would show. Yet that made her all the more alluring to him. He could just imagine all the ways his Alex could break her, hear her screams as the pings of messages resounded in the background, decorate her delicate skin with intricate patterns carved into soft flesh, ruin her beyond recognition. His smile grew. He had found his target. And he was an excellent marksman.

He had never missed yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ready to look at the world through Eliza's terrified eyes?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza's POV.

Her breathing was ragged, frantic as she tried to listen to what was going on around her. There were murmurs from the other side of the door, growing louder, closer. The door flew open, light flooding into the previously dark room. Eliza blinked at the sudden brightness, looking around the room as her eyes adjusted. She took in the stains, ragged curtain, cameras, and, at last, the table. Her eyes widen at the sight, breath quickening at the glimmering tools. She tore her eyes away, glaring back at the men. It was now that she realized she recognized one of them, the one who took her here, left her here, and she realized that he was probably going to kill her here.

“See? Very pretty one, probably a screamer. Might even be a fighter~.” He smiled at her, looking as though she was nothing more than a new toy that he was proud of picking. This wasn’t far from true. The other man made a soft noise of approval, seemingly floating across the floor towards her.

“She is indeed, Laurens.. Beautiful, even..” She recoiled at his words, attempting to free herself from the leather straps that held her wrists and ankles. Her kidnapper, Laurens, seemed to smile wider at the praise, and Eliza felt as if she was going to puke.

“I had a feeling you would like her.. I’m glad to see I was right..” He looked at the stranger, eyes soft and almost loving. Eliza’s stomach churned at that look. She was nothing more than a gift. A fresh plaything. She glared at them, eyes snapping to the other man as he drew nearer. His hand went to hers, and she felt a scream bubble into the back of her throat, though it was not out of fear. It was a sudden spark of rage.

“Hey.. You really are something, aren’t you..?” His dark brown eyes searched her own, almost gentle.

“Don’t touch me.” She glared, jaw clenched as she spit the words at him. Laurens looked shocked at the sudden fire and she fought the urge to smirk at him. She knew he’d expected fear. She was going to give them a run for their money if they thought they could just tear her apart like that. She watched as Laurens strode over to her, his face contorted into a scowl.

“Oh, so we’re playing like that, huh? You want to fight back? Be rude? Well, being rude just makes us drag it out. Hurt you more. And if you don’t want that, you’d better just shut up, got it?” At some point during his tirade, he had grabbed her by the neck, pressing his fingers into her windpipe. She gasped as he choked her, still proud of herself for remaining mostly unruly. He squeezed tighter, releasing when she looked as though she was about to faint. She gasped for air, shooting him daggers with her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. 

“What the hell was that, John..?” The man holding her hand stood, and Eliza soon realized how cold the room could get. His eyes, those same kind pools of dark, had drained into a heartless, enraged flame as he spoke. 

“I asked you a fucking question, Laurens..” His gaze darted from Laurens to the cameras, anger radiating of of him.

“Alex, I’m just trying to preserve what I’ve been working on for a week or so. I’m sorry if it bothers you, but this is kind of my job.” Laurens glared at him, Alex, clearly just as mad, but not nearly as subdued. Alex sighed softly, attempting to calm himself just a bit. 

“Alexander, we need to keep her here.. We need her to have a show..” Laurens looked at him, desperation tinting his face and words. Alex’s words hit the air like gunfire.

“No, what we need is a conscious victim! Who’s gonna pay to watch me kill someone who’s unresponsive?” His eyes softened for a moment before his once more launched venom into the air. 

“You’re lucky she’s not out, or you’d be in that chair..” Laurens’ eyes widened, fear flashing across his face at the comment, but the look was soon gone, replaced by an expression of utter desperation and anxiety.

“Alex, please, these people paid for a show. We’ve gotta give it to ‘em. And with this short notice, there’s no way I’ll be able to get anyone even sort of okay! Please, Alexander...” His tone was nothing short of begging, clearly pleading with Alex to just leave Eliza where she was and get on with the show.

“Well, last I checked, those red dots aren’t on. We aren’t live..” Alex’s tone had morphed from harsh and angry to a soft, condescending slur. Eliza saw Laurens’ arm tense.

“I’m just sayin’ I can’t get anyone this fast! I’m not a brute force kinda guy, I use charm but charm takes time... Alex, please.. I know you have a job beyond this room, this business, but I don’t.. I need every show we get...”

Eliza shut her eyes as Alex leaned over her, turning her face away, accepting her fate, before she felt the leather on her wrists loosen. She slowly opened her eyes, studying Alex’s face. He looked calmer, less threatening. She almost relaxed before a distressed noise sounded from behind his back.

“Alexander, please.... I need this show.. I’ve worked so hard for this.. Please..” The soft affections that Eliza had witnessed left him once more as he wheeled on Laurens.

“John, I swear, you have..” He studied the floor, then his wrist before speaking again 

“Six hours.. I don't care who you get. I don't care where they've been. This one.. This one is mine..” A small, breathy noise escaped Eliza’s lips, fear once more flooding her in a nauseating wave.

“That’s not enough time, Alex! Please... I’ve been working all week for her... Don’t throw away all my efforts...” A cold smile worked its way onto Alex’s lips, and Eliza shivered at the sight.

“I'm not throwing them away.. If I were to throw them away, she'd have been dead by now..” The thought made Eliza's blood run cold. He could've killed her at any time, really. Yet he chose not to. Why did he choose that?

“Alexander... I...” Laurens sighed softly.

“Fine. I’ll go. I guess it’s my own damn fault for convincing myself that you cared.” He spat the words out and Eliza watched him turn and stalk away. Alex’s arm twitched, like he wanted to stop the aggravated Laurens from leaving. Instead, she felt his eyes once more attempt to meet her own. She hardened hers, just as a precaution.

“Hey.. You.. You want some tea..?” Eliza blinked in surprise. Alex’s face seemed to radiate a gentle glow, and Eliza foolishly let her guard down.

“S-sure.. That sounds.. Nice..” Her voice sounded weak and fragile, as if she were walking on glass. Alex smiled at her, not a sinister expression like before; more sympathetic. He helped Eliza find her feet, and she clung to his arm, the action more of an impulse. 

“Good..” The darkness suddenly felt strangely warmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Alex cares~! (Also, Laurens is the most tsundere bab to ever exist, apparently..)
> 
> Comments are always welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson and Madison have a talk. Burr is once again kept out of the room.

Thomas Jefferson was not a man to decline cases he was given. But this.. This was a nightmare. His eyes darted over the case file, and his stomach begin to churn as he studied the pictures, the crime scenes, the women, the men, all the blood. He peered up at the sound of someone taking up residence in his doorframe, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“Hey, Jemmy..” James Madison grabbed a chair, pulling it next to his partner and sighing softly.   
“What did Washington give you and Burr this time?” Thomas looked to his boyfriend, eyes riddled with conflicting emotions as he pushed the cream-colored file under Madison’s hand. Thomas heard a soft gasp from the man next to him.

“Dear God..” Jefferson nodded, his eyes studying his boyfriend’s face intently as Madison’s own soaked in the images. 

“Why the hell would Washington give you and Burr this.. Monster.. To catch..?” Jefferson shook his head slowly, fiddling with a stray curl as to refocus himself.

“I’m.. Not too sure..” Madison seemed amused by Thomas’ remark, and the detective tilted his head in mild confusion.

“What's so funny, babe?” Jefferson’s lips quirked into a small smile as James answered the silence.

“Isn’t Burr the squeamish one?” Jefferson managed a small laugh at that, remembering one crime scene that Burr generously added to due to his weak stomach. 

“Yeah.. I hope he can hold it down..” He had meant it to sound humorous, but honestly, he wished to hell that neither one of them was put onto this file.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentioned Rape/Abuse in this chapter. Also, graphic amounts of gore and violence. 
> 
> <3

There was a strange fascination with the men that Laurens brought for him. He saw his father sometimes, in the tears, the desperate pleas for mercy that had never been shown to him. He saw the landlord, the sick son of a bitch who used him to gratify himself. Some nights, could still feel the man’s hands on his hips, holding him in place as he bled from his then tender, unused asshole onto the concrete of the sugar-scented basement. Maybe that's why he mutilated them. He'd do them a disservice if he didn't expose them as the scum they were, if he didn't peel back their flesh and let the world see them, rotten and vile.

He'd discovered a new part of himself; the part of him that laughed. Most times, it was cruel, condescending. But on this night, his mind was overwhelmed with the ironic situation his newest toy was in. His lungs spasmed as he was hit with the scent of searing flesh, the molten sugar scorching the man’s skin and forcing a scream of agony. Alexander could do nothing more than laugh as he watched the skin blister and pop seemingly instantaneously. The room echoed as his toy found more air in his lungs to force out, the scalding concoction seeping into the open blisters. The wounds leaked onto the floor, sickeningly beautiful as the rivulets of sugar and plasma dripped to the floor, and the man’s breathing grew more frantic. His eyes darted around the room, and Alex could've sworn he'd struck gold when the wounds finally bled. 

“Hey, babe, this guy paid three hundred to knock out his teeth!” Alex turned his head to face Laurens. The two of them had had a rather colorful discussion, which ultimately ended with Laurens curling into a ball of tears after confessing his fear of losing Alex’s attention to Eliza. Now that they were on speaking terms, his smile seemed more alive than ever as he tossed Alex a wrench. His toy’s eyes widened in terror, and he let out another gut-wrenching scream before the metal hit enamel, filling the room with a nauseating crunch. 

Blood flowed in frantic streams down the man’s chin, his eyes red and blurry from tears. He tried to force his mouth shut, but the crack in his upper jaw made it hard for him to do anything but try to vocalize his fear as Alexander began to pull his teeth, one by one, making a pile in the surgical tray atop the table. Each snap ignited a fresh blaze of need in Alex, the scent of blood like a drug, an aphrodisiac of sorts. Once the man was toothless, Alexander stepped back to admire his work. He studied the shape in the chair, the sniveling man who was still trying to vocalize for help. With a small smirk, Alex grabbed a tool of his own creation, a pair of pliers with two razors attached to the teeth. He grabbed down hard on the handle, hearing the pained noise of a man whose tongue has just been amputated assault the microphones. 

“Damn, babe, that the first time you used those?” Alexander nodded at his boyfriend, a smile on his face as he licked some of the spray from his lips. He withdrew the contraption, showcasing the muscle to the camera, dumping it into a plastic bag before deciding to end the show with a bang. 

His toy’s brains decorated the wall with a dazzling new shade of crimson.


End file.
